


A Fully Organic Experience

by writingramblr



Category: Actor RPF, Fright Night (2011), The Lobster (2015), The Perks of Being a Wallflower - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biting, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Derogatory Language, Double Penetration, Kinda, M/M, Mild Blood, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Magic, Threesome - M/M/M, Vampire Sex, couldnt be less about colin than it is oops, whole foods TM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 08:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11574483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Jerry shouldn't be jealous of anyone or anything, but when it threatens the great thing he and David share, yeah, he gets a little territorial.





	A Fully Organic Experience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Funkspiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funkspiel/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY FUNK THIS SHIT BE WILD.  
> here's me lazy AF filling two prompts in one=threesome.

When David mentions he saw someone for a long few months before he had met Jerry, his first instinct is jealousy, aimed purely at this nameless man or woman who’s touched his lover. His claws extend and his fangs emerge, and David is _laughing_ at him.

“Patrick wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s an angel.”

Patrick.

Whoever he is, if he goes near David again, Jerry won’t have any qualms about ripping his throat out, breaking his fingers, whatever it took to keep him away.

David hugs him, and kisses his cheek, and mollifies him for the moment. Jealousy just has a bad habit of sticking with him, curdling in his gut even when he’s right there with David, over him, under him, gladly enjoying their time together. His human is just _so_ warm and so sweet, sometimes he forgets that he’s been content by himself for so long.

Until he had met David of course.

He goes to the store the next week, laden with David’s helpfully scrawled list, including his often mentioned favorites, green apples and fresh spinach, along with a few other things to help prepare a decent meal, just for his human, mainly for aesthetics for him. Although, he’s always wanted to feed on David after he’s just eaten, to see how it changes him, if contentment can be tasted or not.

By the time he arrives in the vegetable sections, it’s filling rapidly with moms and their little brats clinging to a hand, an arm, or the side of the cart or stroller. He turns on his heel and skips over to the coffee aisle instead, making a note to head back within a few minutes. This aisle is quiet and soothing, with only a couple other customers roaming around, and Jerry beelines for the specific brand David has written down. He’s reaching for a bag right before a human steps in front of him, and snags the last one in the row.

“Um. Excuse you, I saw that first.”

“Sorry. You snooze you lose.”

“Why do you think I need coffee in the first place?”

Jerry sneers, just as he wheels around and gets a load of the human, along with the strong scent of cologne and expensive hair products. A false dichotomy of sorts because the human smells stressed, and looks exceedingly worried about who they just robbed.

“Whoa. Dude. Please don’t snarl at me. There’s more, just on the upper shelf.”

Echoes of David’s voice ping around Jerry’s head, and he wasn’t going to _kill_ a human in cold blood over coffee, in the middle of a packed grocery store, he wasn’t. But doubly so when he catches a good look at this kid’s face.

“I’m just trying to follow the list.”

He finds himself saying, like some kind of idiot. The kid blinks, and relaxes just a tidge, body language changing from fearful, to curious, intrigued. Jerry panics for a split second, like he’s accidentally loosed some _lure_ and he’s _dosing_ the fucking kid, against his will. The cologne tickles his nose, and with a jolt, he realizes why it smells familiar, arousing almost.

After a few seconds he realizes the kid’s actually eyeing the list and reading it. Maybe he’s out to help. Right up until the kid’s jaw drops and he ogles Jerry for a long moment.

“You’re the guy Dave is seeing? The gardener?”

The world has gotten way, way too small for Jerry’s liking these days, thanks to the internet and whatever it is of the sort, this is a whole other level.

“You’re Patrick, aren’t you.”

It’s not a question. He fucking knew it.

He knew David would have lied about something like this, or at least, left out the truth. He’d fucked one of the students where he taught last year, and this was it? This was the _angel_?

Well fuck.

Jerry is inclined to admit maybe David was a whole lot more gamey than even he thought.

First this kid now him?

He wasn’t too bad at his non-existent seduction game.

“Yes.” He manages to get out through gritted teeth and the kid, Patrick apparently, just goggles at him, as if mugging for a camera he somehow doesn't see.

“Dude. You’re fucking ripped. Why do you _garden_ for a career? Of all the things… why, you could be a gym instructor.”

Jerry snorts,

“I don’t think so. Your kind couldn’t keep up with me.”

He’s made a colossal error, he knew it about ten seconds after the words left his mouth.

Patrick follows him, out of the aisle after he snags a replacement bag of coffee, and it took barely any effort to stretch up, and Jerry didn’t _mean_ to expose that bit of his hip, but his shirt doesn’t fit perfectly. Now he’s just earned himself a problem.

Patrick is babbling, and Jerry doesn’t know how to shut him up. He certainly doesn’t want to be rude, he wants to _destroy_ the kid. He has to go back, brave the moms and kiddies, to get David’s veggies, and his apples, all the while Patrick is still clinging to his side.

By the time they’re both being zipped through the checkout line, he wants to die, rather than listen to a moment more of this, without finding a way to shut the kid up.

“Look. Now I know why he left you okay? It wasn’t for me, it’s for that damn mouth of yours.”

Patrick blinks at him, the hint of red, his blush, fresh blood rising in his cheeks, and oh, Jerry can’t think straight now.

“That’s rude. I guess he likes the way you use yours better? Huh.”

A slap in the face. He gets that next. He deserves it. Maybe.

But Patrick’s wincing, and staring at his hand like he just hit a brick wall.

Jerry grins.

“If I buy you a coffee, can we call a truce?”

“The fuck? How do you work out your jaw like that? I think I sprained my wrist.”

“Not in the way that you might think.”

 

 

 

Coffee it is.

Patricks thinks that the guy looks vaguely like David, if he’s honest. If he stopped going out into the sunlight, or started working out religiously like two hours a day. Dyed his hair. Shaved his beard. Got contacts. All in all, the guy in front of him is still hot. But Patrick really prefers David. He misses him something awful, but after school, after they’d tried to go public and failed so miserably, he knew David wanted nothing to do with him.

Sitting across from Jerry and pretending he doesn’t want to punch him or slap him again and also maybe see what it feels like to be shoved against a wall by him in equal measures is hard. So is _he_.

Goddamnit.

“You okay over there, guy?”

“It’s Patrick.” He snaps back, almost automatically. Habit from high school, from college, from David who’d always call him sweetheart or angel baby or ‘ _the man of my dreams_ ’ or something of the like. God, he hates this guy in front of him so fucking much.

Maybe David only liked him because Patrick was so easy, maybe he wanted something more stable, someone hotter, closer to his age.

Yeah.

That’s it.

That’s gotta be.

So when Jerry walks him out, back to his car, and then slams both hands on the roof, trapping Patrick in his arms, he’s both turned on and angry as hell.

“What the fu-”

“You’re still hot for David. I can smell it. So why don’t you just ask me? Ask me what it’s like getting to be with him, fucking him, and knowing he’s probably wondering about you? He’s just got a bleeding heart like that, for sad little boys.”

“Um, dude, first of all, I didn’t ask you. And I won’t. I don’t care. I’ve moved on.”

“You’re lying.”

Sure it actually broke his heart to hear that, to know the confirmation that yes, David has moved on, and he’s happy to allow some hot gym rat knock off to do things to him that Patrick only ever dreamed of, but it’s whatever. He doesn’t care. Not really.

“And second of all, ‘little boy?’”

Jerry has no idea what personal space is, that has to be it. Why else is he leaning in and fucking _sniffing_ at Patrick, getting a lungful of that shitty cologne that David had bought him for his birthday last year?

“Don’t be like that. I’m not _little_.”

His voice breaks off into a squeak, damn traitor that it is, and Jerry’s smirk widens, as he gets closer, and his _mouth_ is so close that Patrick can feel the eerie coldness of his breath. He doesn’t smell bad, not like the stale coffee they’d both just been drinking. Why is that?

“Is that so?”

His voice is more a growl than a whisper, and Patrick’s knees are on the verge of giving out. Fucking hell…this shouldn’t be so damned hot, but it is?

“Why don’t you fuck off and tell David I said hello?”

“Why, you’re so big and brave, why don’t you do it yourself? Come over for dinner. You can behave yourself, can’t you, big boy?”

Patrick’s never gotten hard from a threat or the prospect of seeing an ex around their new significant other before, but there’s a first time for everything.

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack, my guy.”

“Why?”

“You’re cute when you’re scared. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“No? You’ve got a very rapid heartbeat, you’re sweating.”

Patrick is inclined to agree, feeling his hair tickling the back of his neck, and yet Jerry isn’t moving back, isn’t letting him do much more than be what he is, trapped like a rat.

“Are you going to drive me?”

“Oh yeah. I’ll take you there. Bring your stuff along, the perishables that is. Wouldn’t want anything _d e l i c i o u s_ going to waste.”

 

* * *

 

 

David’s more than a little surprised by the sight of his ex boyfriend striding into the kitchen through the garage, with his current… not quite boyfriend.

“Jerry… I don’t recall putting that on the list.”

He smiles as warmly as he can, even though regret and shame course through him, and Patrick looks more than a little frazzled.

“Hey kiddo.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Everyone needs to chill. We’re just gonna have a dinner party, that’s all.”

Jerry sidles over to him, behind the counter, and hugs him, while placing a kiss on his cheek, effortlessly pulling off a ‘ _marking territory_ ’ and showing signs of domestic bliss, and a perfect sort of relationship, which they hadn’t even discussed yet.

Patrick looks suitably nervous and also uncomfortable, so David pulls away, dodging the next attempt at affection.

“What is going on?” ‘ _Why didn’t you text me? Warn me?’_ he thinks, as loud as he dares.

“I just thought we could all-”

“I didn’t follow him here, for the record. He basically kidnapped me, under threat of violence.”

Patrick interrupts, and David feels his nostrils flare as he glances to Jerry. He doesn’t deny it.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Baby, don’t be that way-”

“Don’t call _me_ that. You’re just trying to, to, to-”

“Test his loyalty? Yeah. It’s a shitty thing to do if you ask me.”

“We fucking didn’t.” Jerry barks at Patrick, and that sets David off.

He doesn’t even _get_ angry very easily, but apparently Jerry knows how to push his all buttons.

“Enough!”

Jerry looks surprised, for once, but D avid ignores him in favor of walking away, and over to Patrick, approaching him carefully, like he’s a wounded animal. He’s not hurt, but he’s clearly mildly terrified. Jerry just has that… air about him.

“Patrick… if you don’t want to be here, if this is too awkward, which hey, it totally is, please, go ahead. You don’t have to stay. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”

“Hey, man, that’s not fair. I didn’t _bother_ him, he tried to take the last of the dark roast you wanted-”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just-”

“Do you want to go?”

David ignores Jerry, pointedly, till he gets the message. This may be their first real fight, and it’s one hundred percent not his fault. He’s almost giddy, despite shaking with anger.

“No. I wanted to see you. He was right. I lied.”

Patrick bleeds earnestness, it’s his way, he’s been like that since day one, and it’s why David fell so hard, so fast, god, he _still_ cares. This boy, this beautiful creature isn’t as fragile as he appears, nor as strong as he pretends. David’s reaching for him before he can stop himself, and he squeezes a hand over Patrick’s arm, noting to himself that beneath his oversized hoodie and dark washed jeans, he’s been working out.

“Why haven’t you answered any of my texts? I was worried.”

Patrick avoids his gaze, shrugs a little, and manages to melt David’s heart all over again.

“Fuck. You two are so sappy. Humans. I swear.”

David’s eyes close and he’s on the verge of snapping again, two times in one night, this does not trend well, when he realizes what Jerry’s just done.

“Shut up!”

“Why did he say it like that, Dave? He sniffed me earlier. Is he some kind of weird alien man in disguise? Is that why he looks a bit like you?”

David sighs, and turns away from Patrick to pin Jerry with a glare, which the bastard just smirks about.

“You can’t get angry at me baby. You’re fucking welcome. I brought your little angel home to roost. Now, can I feed on him or no?”

David’s been patient, he’s been understanding, but if there’s one rule, its ‘ _don’t act like humans are all food.’_ Okay, actually it’s two rules; _‘don’t talk shit about people right in front of you.’_

“No. We don’t have time for this.”

Jerry is in front of them both in a blink, and he’s still smirking as he leans over Patrick’s shoulder, making him jump as he realizes he’s being sniffed again.

“He smells like you, so I have to wonder, why is that?”

David rolls his eyes,

“I gave him some of my favorite stuff last year, okay? So he still uses it, which is sweet, I must admit.”

Patrick’s blushing even as he’s probably scared half to death. Jerry didn’t even try to walk normally.

“I do. I like the way you smell. I miss-”

Jerry snaps his teeth right by Patrick’s ear, and he flinches.

“Mind the way you’re talking about my boyfriend, _kid_.”

“Jerry…”

David doesn’t know how to sound chastising. How do you chastise a vampire?

God knows he’s tried.

“Dave, I changed my mind. I want to go, but I want you to come with me.”

“This is _our_ house. Try to steal someone else’s man, kid.”

Jerry’s still far too close to Patrick’s neck for David’s comfort, so he just snaps a hand in the vampire’s face, tired of this whole thing.

“Dinner. I think. You need to go to the basement, have a drink. Chill out.”

When Jerry sneers and winks at him, he knows he’s won, and they’re done fighting for now. He has barely a moment before Patrick literally throws himself into David’s chest, and he’s clinging to him like he’s drowning at sea.

“Goddamn, he’s so scary! Why is he like that? Where the fuck did you meet him? Why did you not want me anymore? Shit. Zero to sixty, sorry.”

David finds himself petting over Patrick’s neck, his long hair a touch longer than it was before, and he’s soothing him with little shushing noises.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. It’s no one’s fault. Well, maybe the dean’s. But not you. Never you.”

“Still. Why him?”

Patrick might be shaking with sobs, or just still nerves, David doesn’t know. He knows that his heart aches, melts and breaks in the span of five seconds, and he wishes to _hell_ he could kiss the boy, to make things better, even if it would also make them worse.

“It just… happened. I didn’t plan to go out and meet anyone. But I went for a long walk, and there he was, at the end of the pier, just humming to himself. He said he was trying to summon mermaids. Instead he landed me. A whale. Howabout that?”

“Shut the fuck up Dave. I hate when you talk shit like that about yourself.”

It’s about five seconds too late after all, when he notices Patrick nuzzling his neck and kissing him right below his ear, before pulling back, staring at him with wide eyes, shining with tears, and oh, he’s so fucked.

“Patrick, angel, you know we can’t…”

“Dave, I _love_ you. I don’t think I ever stopped. Did you?”

That’s it. Isn’t it?

The million dollar question.

David is suddenly very, very unsure.

 

* * *

 

 

Jerry watches and listens and _smells_ the two of them, ending the slow dance, mouths inches away from each other, and fuck if he’s not hard as rock, tempted to jerk off while they fight the urge to kiss. He knows he shouldn’t but he also really wants to bust in after the fact, play up the guilt, and then confess that he’d really rather fuck both of them than none.

Instead, David acts for him.

“I know you’re there. I hope you fed so you don’t get the urge to bite anything.”

Patrick is fumbling, stuttering, heartbeat a mile a minute, but god, this kid is so fucking gorgeous, Jerry’s mouth actually waters.

Usually that only happens for David’s perfect cock. He makes the most adorable sounds. Now Jerry’s thinking about how Patrick might look, spread open wide for David, pushing a thumb in his mouth, telling him to suck on it, make sure its good and wet, so he could be prepared to handle them both.

Fuck.

He swings around the corner and winks at David as he smirks to Patrick,

“Yeah, I’m here. You called, love, light of my life?”

“Before we do anything rash, maybe I should double check to make sure this guy doesn’t have people preparing to slash my tires, back in the Whole Foods parking lot?”

Patrick mumbles, and Jerry bites back a laugh,

“No, I’m not _that_ powerful, my guy.”

“He’s not going to hurt you. Because he knows it’ll piss _me_ off. Isn’t that right Jer?”

To be fair, David can play up this as much as he wants, and Jerry’s going to go along with it, because he’s a fucking sucker for the man, he’s been molded into a poetic sap, and he doesn’t know how to admit when he’s wrong or been beaten. He just nods.

Patrick smiles shakily, and Jerry can smell that he’s hopeful. God, can someone finally get some action or what?

David’s turning pink, and he realizes he just said that out loud. Oops.

“I guess, if you’re done smelling me, you could… kiss me?”

Jerry snarls at that, lunging forward to do it, to press Patrick into the flat of the kitchen wall, and David just sighs beside them.

The kid’s sweet arousal and confusion and tangy fear all at once, and fuck, Jerry wants to _eat him alive_.

David’s not a pure or innocent thing, but he’s still sweet and soft and wonderful, miles different than this kid. Jerry’s not afraid to break him, he’s interacted enough with humans in the last two centuries to get by, but he doesn’t notice that he’s split Patrick’s lips until they separate, and his eyes blow dark with lust just from a drop of it.

“Jer, for fucks sake. Calm down.”

“Just having an appetizer babe, no worries.”

“Don’t be such a square, I know. But I’ve never-”

David shushes instantly at Jerry’s eyeroll. Who was it who taught him that? Oh yeah. He did.

The _Professor_.

Patrick is swaying on his feet, woozy, and maybe Jerry accidentally let loose another dose of _lure_ , and so fucking what, now he’s less nervous, getting a bit handsy though, as Jerry leans over to peck David’s cheek, and jerk a thumb towards the bedroom, he goes slowly, as the kid has his hands halfway up under his shirt.

“You’re so-o-o ripped. Damn.”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“He’s obsessed with looking like a model. God knows why. He doesn’t need to work at it.” David sounds grumbly, and Jerry’s far too horny to be annoyed at having to remind him,

“Babe, I don’t sleep. So I gotta do something with all those hours.”

“No sleep, ever? Steroids will fuck you up man…”

Patrick’s trying to be helpful, sweet morsel that he is. Jerry almost laughs.

“Yes, they will. You humans are so fragile.”

He strips off his shirt and ignores David’s stare, until he notices Patrick’s giving him the same heated look as from before, back in the grocery store, then after outside the coffee shop, but he seems more inclined to ask if _Jerry_ is for sale, or at least what the going rate is.

“Go on. Let’s see the rest of your pasty ass, my guy.”

“Not all of us have swimming pools to sun by.” Patrick is whining in David’s general direction, but Jerry wasn’t _actually_ complaining, not when the kid is pretty as he is, with the contrast between his long dark hair and shining eyes. He’s not at all sorry to have him joining David and himself in bed, no sir.

Still, no one is going to be fucking David, not if Jerry can help it, not that night, he’s not surrendering. So that means Patrick better understand who goes where, and when, right fucking now.

“You’re on the bottom kiddo.”

Blunt, to the point, he can’t help it.

“Well yes, but who’s going to fuck me?”

First.

He doesn’t say that.

Jerry glances to David, and he’s stuck unbuttoning his shirt, looking up through his glasses, lenses a bit foggy from the overexertion and close proximity.

“I don’t know. Might be a little awkward if it’s me, won’t it?”

“Will it?”

David chuckles and it’s basically him giving Jerry his blessing, so he moves like lightening, and kisses Patrick breathless. He doesn’t have to breathe, ergo, he can go forever, until the human starts wilting, and falls back onto the bed, hands scrabbling at his chest to get away.

The resurgence of air makes his cheek pink, and he’s panting, long hair spilling over the pillows, and Jerry can admit, yeah, he’s _really_ pretty. Jerry would much rather just see him naked.

But the kid moves too slowly for his liking, so he bares a claw, and slices his shirt, ugly logo print anyway, right down the middle, leaving him bare from the waist up, and yes, the blush goes all the way down, almost to his navel.

“What-?”

David huffs out a sigh and Jerry ignores him, chasing the blood flow with his tongue, sniffing intently, undoing the kid’s jeans and tugging the away, gently enough not to pop any stitches. His pants will survive the night.

“Dave-!”

Jerry nips at the kid’s pale hipbone, and palms over his cock, which is rapidly filling with blood, smelling incredible. He opens his mouth wider and gets a proper taste of the kid’s inner thigh and he jerks up, making his cock almost slip free of his grasp.

“Be good now. You don’t need to… to help him relax.”

David’s hissing at him, fully naked now, stretching out on the bed beside the kid, glaring at Jerry, who just leans in again, and presses a kiss to the base of his cock. Patrick jumps, and gasps, eyes snapping open to meet Jerry’s own icy gaze.

“You know, that I can come from this. If you get me off, I could handle you both. Maybe.”

What a conclusion to come to.

Jerry’s impressed and he doesn’t easily get that way. David splutters and insists that’s not necessary but Jerry thinks yes, it is.

“The kid’s young, flexible. He can do it. Kiss him, make him stay still. I don’t think he realizes I can seriously deep throat.”

Patrick has been watching him, like a hawk, but the second Jerry properly swallows down his cock, just halfway, he’s gone, back arching, jaw dropping, and he can see David trying to brace over him, one hand on his chest, the other cupping his cheek, kissing him silent.

Jerry wants to sneak a bite, but it would leave a mark and bliss the kid out too much to be any use. Patricks is pliant and squirming under Jerry’s mouth and hands, when he reaches down to thumb past the soft skin of his balls and press into the pucker of his hole, he can feel another full body twitch, and a blurt of precome lingers on his tongue.

He swallows easily, and shifts lower, until his nose is flush with the kid’s stomach, nudging in, he’s got Patrick’s whole cock down his throat, and Jerry hums, just as a hand makes contact with his head, fingers rough in his hair, but the kid can’t hurt him.

“I’m-”

“Go ahead baby. Whenever you’re ready. Jerry’s a bit of a cockslut, aren’t you?”

He can’t growl, so he sucks harder, and Patrick’s thighs spasm at the sides of his shoulders, trying fruitlessly to clamp closed, as he comes, with a whimper and sigh, and David’s petting him, soothing him with low tones. Jerry rolls his eyes again and pulls back just enough to let the kid’s cock slip free, and tries to nudge a full finger inside him. It’s slow going without lube but not impossible, thanks to his _lure_ , his saliva works wonders too.

  


* * *

 

 

Patrick feels like he’s lit up, blazing on some strong shit, he’s drifting among the stars, drunk out of his mind. Just from the angry guy sucking him off, and trying to finger him. Okay definitely fingering him now, and David’s so sweet, just kissing him, and stroking his chest, telling him he’s pretty.

“But what about you?”

He reaches out, fumbling, trying to snag David’s cock and give him a stroke, a touch, he has a free hand when not holding on for dear life in Jerry’s hair dammit.

“Don’t worry about me. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Another kiss, and Patrick’s nervous all over again. Jerry starts kissing, licking, he’s got his goddamn mouth over Patrick’s balls, now past where he’s _ever_ been touched before, he’s pressing a finger in and his tongue?

“David, he doesn’t have to-”

Jerry interrupts before David can even try to form a reply.

“Now. Shut up and let me make sure you’re ready. You’re wound tighter than a ball of rubber bands.”

“What?”

David kisses him again, and he’s distracted, fully, lost in the kind embrace. Patrick has missed him. He’s missed this, _them,_ so fucking much it hurts him. It aches deep down inside his chest like he’s lost a big piece of himself.

But now? It’s all thudding back into place, and he’s slotting in between David and Jerry and scared half to death, lax from one orgasm. The second Jerry finds his prostate, two fingers deep, Patrick moans, and it sounds like he’s dying. Feels like it too, until David graciously strokes a hand down his chest to wrap fingers around his cock just like he knows Patrick likes it, and white light explodes behind his eyelids. When did he close them? He can’t remember. He can’t think straight.

He feels Jerry moving him, guiding him up so David can fit properly behind him, and his cock is rubbing between Patrick’s thighs, grazing his rim, making him twitch anew.

“Fuck. You’re so pretty when you come. It’s unfair. I want to taste him. Please David?”

“Begging me isn’t going to work. Ask your would be victim, you big lug.”

“May I?”

Patrick’s delirious from pleasure, as David’s barely easing in, cock slick with lube and precome and his head lolls forward, locking eyes with Jerry. His own are dark and endless, pupils blown black.

Maybe his eyes were always that black. Patrick can’t be sure.

“May I bite your pretty little neck, kiddo?”

“Um… just keep it light. I can’t wear a scarf with my work uniform. They’d ask question-ugh… David… please.”

He’s effortlessly distracting, thrusting into him halfway, and Patrick’s eyes cross, as he bites his lip. Jerry chuckles and it’s so gravely, it’s spooky almost.

“You don’t work weekends do you? It’ll heal by Monday… I promise.”

Patrick nods, barely aware, and the sting isn’t bad, the suckling and kissing against the underside of his jaw comparable to being fingered roughly, with minimal lube. But David is actually driving into him proper now, fucking him slow and easy, hugging him tight from behind, before kissing Jerry right back, over his shoulder. Is his mouth red? Is it shiny with-

Oh god.

Patrick didn’t think he had it in him to come again, but he does, and he’s shivering, gasping for air, cock pulsing empty against his stomach, while Jerry reaches down between his legs, and manages to slip a finger in beside David’s cock. How and why, beyond the obvious, he doesn’t know.

“God… you’re still so tight kid. You taste like sunshine and soda pop.”

“Shh… you’ll scare him.”

Patrick’s eyes close at some point, and the speed of their fucking slows along with the world, like everything goes muffled and dark, as if they’ve been submerged in a swimming pool.

Jerry kisses him again, and puts another finger in, stroking over David’s cock before curling up, into him.

He’s never been so full before, and this is just the start.

Patrick wonders if maybe they’ll break him.

“You’re so good, so good for us, aren’t you?”

Jerry doesn’t slip up and use any terms of endearment, not when David has the market cornered in that arena. He’s murmuring low and soft, petting Patrick’s hair, and starting to roll his hips a bit faster.

“God… fuck… Jer, I’m close. You should hurry.”

“He’s still so tight. I could… help. But he can’t leave. He’ll have to spend the night. Till it wears off.”

“Gentleman… _he’s_ right here. Please don’t talk about me like I’m not. I’m not drunk or high. I’m conscious. Just need one more dick. Fuck. What am I saying?”

Patrick wonders if maybe he _is_ drugged, and he missed it happening?

“Okay. We’ve got you kiddo.”

“Stop that. He’s old enough to drink. Sweetheart, can you hear me? God, how much of him did you _have_?”

“Enough.”

Jerry’s still looming over him, and now, his fingers leave Patrick’s ass and something else, blunt and hard and hot nudges in beside David, ripping a groan from him, vibrating through his body, and shoving him closer to coming again, impossibly.

“Good boy, aren’t you? Tight and wet and trembling.”

“Is that…. Good?”

Patrick feels mindless, adrift at sea, and all he has for anchor is David’s firm chest behind him, and Jerry’s painful grip on his hips in front of him, as he’s split into two perfect halves, somehow riding both of them at once.

Pull in, push out, and Jerry leans down to kiss him, forcibly enough that normally it might sting, or make Patrick wince, but now, he’s too far gone.

David’s shuddering against his back, and mouthing over his neck and shoulder, before biting him a little, moaning and keening, warmth slicking against him, coming deep inside him, aiding the glide and slow thrusting from Jerry for a moment. For that moment, Patrick can breathe, before David moves away, shifts off to the side, and lays onto his back, panting for air.

Then Jerry’s snaps at him, growling almost, and Patrick’s flat on his own back, being bent almost double, knees guided to his chest, while he’s given the ride of his life, with no way to steer or slow or stop.

Fucking miracle of miracles, Jerry forces him into another orgasm from sheer will power alone, and Patrick writhes under him, feeling his hips still after a long agonizing moment that seems like it’ll never end. It does. With another load pumped into his ass, leaving him dripping, and aching, oozing come when Jerry finally pulls out, and touches him. It hurts a little, but it feels good too, Patrick’s cock is soft, traitorously so, but when Jerry leans down, between his legs, only to lick at him.

It’s so terrible and wet and slimy, but Patrick doesn’t have the strength to get away, Jerry’s hands are bracing him open, holding his legs wide.

“He tastes like you. Maybe a little sweeter.”

“That’s because you came there too, you big dolt.”

Jerry hums, and then does it again, slow, deep, long licks into Patrick’s sloppy hole, until he’s babbling nonsense, begging him to stop.

David takes his side, angel that he is, and pulls him to his chest, letting Patrick snuggle close, sighing against his skin. Jerry crowds into his back, not seeming to care that he’s clammy with sweat, feverish even, from a marathon round of fucking.

“You’re not so bad after all, guy.”

Patrick thinks he hears. He passes out shortly after, with David stroking a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his damp forehead.

“Get some rest, angel.”

  


* * *

 

 

**END**


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